Rest with Me
by YummyFoods
Summary: Sam had seen that same look on Gabriel once before—it was the look he had worn when they had left him in that warehouse, exposed, miserable, and alone. A foray into the rain changes everything between the two.


**A/N:** Hey there, guys! It was pouring in my town tonight and it nearly completely flooded my hometown a few hours away, and after a delightful hour-long run in the rain at 3 a.m., this popped in my head and I wrote it. Sabriel goodness, comin' at ya. Warning for typos-I didn't really proofread this too well before I uploaded it.

For those of you that are reading my fic _Desperation_, fear not. I am very slowly working on the next chapter. I'm hoping to have it done by the end of the month. Life has been hectic. :/

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing herewithin. You're shocked, I know.

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><p><strong><span>Rest with Me<span>**

Rain pattered down on the abandoned shed's shoddy tin roof, its soft _tinks_ and _taps_ as soothing as they were constant. Team Freewill Plus Gabriel (it was a working title—Gabriel vowed to come up with something much catchier soon) was currently arguing about the best way to go about taking out a coven of nearby vampires.

"Look," Dean growled, his arms crossed as he took a decidedly intimidating stance. Why he was attempting to affright a renegade archangel-turned-pagan-god was lost on Sam, but he wasn't about to say anything and exacerbate the situation. "Why can't you just mojo your way in there and obliterate them all in one go? If you say you're going to join us and help, the least you could do is actually, y'know, _help_."

Gabriel was not intimidated in the slightest by Dean's scowl or rough and tough demeanor. He fixed the elder Winchester with a smile that seemed friendly at first, but had a slight glint to it that spoke of danger. "Deano, I know you're not exactly the brains of the group, but seriously? If I waltz in there and smite all those vamps, my Grace will be like a great big flashing sign for Michael and Zachariah that says, 'Hey! Everybody you want is right _here_!'" The archangel gave an indignant snort as he rolled his eyes and looked to Sam. "Honestly, it's like dealing with a coked-up, semi-retarded monkey twenty-four seven."

"Gabe," Sam sighed, defeated.

One day after Gabriel had joined their ranks, the youngest mortal had already tired of playing babysitter. A month in and he was about to shoot Dean, Gabe, or both of them. He really was beyond the point of caring. And Cas was zero help. Whenever the two idiots got themselves into an altercation, the blue-eyed angel was quick to vanish to some unknown corner of the world, leaving Sam to keep the Trickster from turning Dean into a monkey again, or to keep Dean from breaking his other fist by punching the celestial being.

"So what? You're just gonna sit around here and stuff your face with chocolate while we risk our asses, _again?_" snarled Dean.

"Hey, I do my part," the archangel replied coolly, still relatively unfazed by the hunter. "If you remember correctly, it was me that healed that life-threatening cut to your leg the other day."

"Yeah, but that was only _after _you finished eating your sundae while I bled out on the carpet."

The rain suddenly shifted from a steady drizzle to an absolutely torrential downpour, each drop slamming against the tin roof like a fist. The din grew to be so loud that the men had to yell to be heard by one-another.

Gabriel looked up to the ceiling suddenly, an undecipherable look on his face before he vanished. Dean looked to the spot the angel had been occupying and threw his arms up in exasperation. Cas continued staring into space, probably hoping that if he just pretended he wasn't in this room that he wouldn't be dragged into the Trickster's next devious plot against Dean.

Sam, however, was a bit concerned for Gabriel. He had seen that same look on the angel once before—it had been the look he had worn when they had left him in that warehouse, exposed, miserable, and alone. What had made the Trickster so upset that abruptly? Dean hadn't _actually_ gotten to him, had he?

Not that Sam cared, or anything.

He just didn't want to have to deal with another one of Dean's What-the-fuck-happened-to-my-baby-and-why-is-she-broken-up-into-a-pile-of-parts-I-can't-even-process-this meltdowns. Because he really didn't think he'd be able to handle the amount of emotional strain it put on him to calm down his hysterical brother.

It wasn't like Sam _cared_ about Gabriel or anything.

It was a strictly business-y, saving the world-y sort of professionalism that drove him to leave the shed in nothing but his t-shirt and jeans despite the way it was raining hard enough to make Noah reconsider taking the Ark out for another spin. At first it was nearly impossible to see anything in the night, especially with the rain coming down in powerful sheets and hitting him hard enough to leave him numb all over, but after a bit his eyes adjusted and he was able to make out a figure in the darkness a few yards away.

Gabriel stood out in the open, gazing straight up into the wet abyss that was the night sky. There was a sort of sorrow within those timeless olive eyes that spoke of suffering incomprehensible, the kind a mere mortal wasn't equipped to ever percept. His shoulders slumped with the weight of all the grief and distraught of millenia, threatening to drag him down to the ground where he would drown in it. All four of his striking tawny wings were unfurled to loosely wrap around himself, as if to shield himself from absorbing any further sadness.

The hunter came to stand right in front of the archangel-turned-trickster and watched the statue-like being as the rain soaked through to his very core.

"Gabe, what are you doing out here?" he asked quietly.

The archangel finally moved to look at his companion. "Have you ever just wanted it all to end? The sadness, the hunger, the fatigue, the rage and hate?" he whispered. "Every second of every day, for as long as this world has existed, I've listened to all the cries for help of the entire world, and... I'm tired, Sammy. I'm so tired."

Before either of them were completely aware of what was going on, Sam was suddenly pressed against Gabriel, his arms wrapped around the smaller body in a protective, unmistakably comforting manner. It came as a surprise but it felt so natural, so _right_ to hold the archangel like this. The Winchester felt all the pressure and turmoil leave Gabriel in a rush as he relaxed and leaned into the mortal's hold.

"Then rest with me," he murmured, and earnest hazel slowly melted and pooled together with exhausted olive.

Gabriel's lips were on Sam's as his wings tightened their circle, pulling the mortal even closer to him. The archangel sucked on the man's bottom lip before claiming his mouth in a kiss that was as tender as it was exploratory. Sam was startled at first and he fisted his hands in Gabriel's jacket before he slackened his hold and hesitantly met the Trickster's velvety tongue with his own, the rain slicking their skin, making them shiver and yearn even more for the warmth of each other's bodies.

Sam Winchester wasn't entirely sure what he had gotten himself into, but he knew that it was the beginning of something glorious.

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><p><strong>AN: **Did you like? Even if you didn't, leave me a review and lemme know! I'm all for constructive criticism! Should I have a second chapter? Thanks for reading! Have a good day!

(and leave a review, pretty pretty please!) ]:D


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